Chapter 16
K reston
The next morning on Christmas Eve, Kreston numbly stared at the hotel’s ledger. The numbers blurred into oblivion while his mind replayed last night’s kiss and the way Sadie had melted into him. Then she’d mystified him by pulling away and left him standing in the cold with his heart in his hands.
He hadn’t slept well, and he’d toyed with the idea of not even coming to work this morning. But he’d forced himself to drive in, knowing if Sadie peeked out the window, she’d see his truck and would know he was there. He kept glancing at the door, hoping she’d pop in to explain why the heck she’d bailed on him.
“You’re obviously not with the program this morning,” observed Jessie, appearing with coffee. “You look like a zombie with that neglected five o’clock shadow. Want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” His voice was tinged with a sharp edge.
Jessie raised her brows. “Oh, is that right? Because Ten Second Tess ran into the party last night saying some lady was kissing Mayor Collins on the back deck. But ten minutes later, she couldn’t answer questions from the Gossip Trio. ”
He cocked a brow, but before he could respond, his radio crackled: “Polar Creek, this is The Beave with the Christmas mail. Fifteen minutes out. Over.”
“Copy that,” replied Kreston, grabbing his coat and gloves. He’d left his boots on. “Meet you at the airstrip.” He forced a smile for Jessie. “Time to put on my mail carrier hat.”
“Have you talked to Sadie yet this morning?” Her stare drilled into him.
“It’s early. She’s still asleep.” He squeezed past Jessie, then paused. “She ran off and left me last night, Jessie.”
She heaved out a sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”
“She sure as heck doesn’t want to talk to me,” he mumbled.
“Did you tell her how you feel?”
A long moment of silence. “I kissed her. That communicated how I felt.”
“But did you tell her how you feel?” Jessie pressed.
“Didn’t get around to that,” he mumbled, walking away from her. “Gotta go, see you later.”
The drive out of town gave him too much time to think. He turned last night over and over in his mind, always coming to the same conclusion: Sadie bolted because she didn’t want to get involved. He wasn’t stupid; he knew why. But it still didn’t lessen the sting of rejection.
Hadn’t he done a similar thing when his life had blown up in a shit storm? Run away from his failed commitments after the woman he’d intended to marry broke it off? Sadie had her career, and he had his. Her life was in the city, his was not. End of story.
Kreston climbed out of his pickup as the sun peeked over in a blaze of yellow, lighting up the white mountains. He put on his pilot shades, staring into the brightening blue. It was a beautiful day for flying. Not a cloud in the sky, and winds were relatively calm. He heard Lucky’s DeHavilland Beaver before seeing the speck flying over the mountains coming toward him.
Lucky’s skis touched down in a spray of snow, and silence descended when the propellor stopped. He emerged from the pilot seat.
“Special delivery. One plane load of Christmas cheer!” he said in his Irish lilt, opening the cargo hold.
Glad someone is cheerful today. It certainly isn’t me, Kreston thought glumly.
“How was it near the Alaska Range?” he asked, as lively as he could muster.
“Beautiful. The Beave floated in the air like a balloon.” Lucky stacked several boxes and handed them to Kreston. “Better get these delivered today, Kress. It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Yep, planning on it.” Kreston stuffed the mail pouch into the truck’s back seat.
They worked in companionable silence for a while, loading packages into Kreston’s truck. Finally, Lucky cornered him, as Kreston knew he would.
“Want to tell me why you walked back into the party alone last night without your jacket? Or the girl?”
“Women.” Kreston shook his head, hefting another box with more force than necessary. “They act interested, then, when you get down to brass tacks—bam! Rejection guts you like a salmon.”
“Ah.” Lucky nodded sagely. “The old ‘kiss and run.’ Classic holiday romance maneuver.”
“I guess so.” Kreston blew out air, creating frosty vapor. “I never stood a chance with her from the get-go. This isn’t a Hallmark Christmas movie where the city girl stays with the country boy.”
Lucky wrinkled his face. “You watch that stuff?”
“Jessie subscribed to that Galaxy-Link satellite streaming network and plays those movies constantly on the hotel kitchen TV,” explained Kreston defensively. “Can’t help seeing them whenever I stop in.”
“Uh-huh, I’ll believe it when you buy a bridge to nowhere,” joked Lucky. “Back to Sadie. She asked me to fly her to Talkeetna, where she’ll pick up the train to Anchorage.”
“When are you taking her?”
“First, I have to take a run to McGrath to bring back the Simenson family,” explained Lucky. “Remember how they fly home each Christmas to spend the holiday with their kids? When I get back, I’ll load up Sadie and her gear and fly her to Talkeetna.”
The package in Kreston’s hands suddenly felt like an anvil. “Wish she would have asked me to take her, but I can understand why she didn’t.” It still smarted. Maybe she didn’t trust his flying. He should have taken her up in his plane, but with the ongoing storm, it hadn’t been an option.
“She’s running,” Lucky stated matter-of-factly. “Question is, are you going to let her?”
“I have no say in her decisions or what she does. What am I supposed to do? She has a life in Seattle. I have responsibilities here, and that’s all there is to it.”
Lucky grimaced. “Bullheaded, much? I haven’t seen you in this good of a mood since we got your plane started after being stranded on Ruth Glacier with those Denali climbers. You ought to give this a bit of thought.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Never is.” Lucky threw his arms up. “That’s why they call it taking a chance. You know what I think? You aren’t afraid she’ll leave...you’re afraid she’ll stay.” He started his pre-flight check.
“You’re not making sense,” spluttered Kreston, even though his buddy had hit the proverbial nail on the head. The truth slammed into his chest like a rocket.
“Love rarely does. Just ask Ten Second Tess.” Lucky grinned. “She told me this morning that hearts are like soup—warm and messy, sometimes spilling on your shirt. She may have a split-second memory, but she dispenses pearls of wisdom now and again.”
Despite everything, Kreston smiled. “She said that?”
“Well, not in those exact words. But I’m a good interpreter.” Lucky gave him a direct look. “If I were you, I’d skedaddle into town to catch Sadie before I fly her out of here. Okay?”
Kreston saw his point. “All right. You convinced me.”
“Now help me refuel so I can get this bird in the air.” Lucky pointed a thumb toward the hangar.
After Lucky took off, Kreston drove to his place to check on his sled dogs. In the meantime, he had to sort the packages—some for delivery and the rest for the post office—but talking to Sadie before she left was a matter of urgency.
His phone buzzed with a text from Jessie .
Remember when you found me crying in the Anchorage diner? You told me I wasn’t running away, that I was running toward a better life. Maybe it’s time you take your own advice.
Kreston read the message three times, his dogs watching with wagging tails as if they knew what it said.
He addressed his wagging dogs, lined up on top of their doghouses. “Okay, you guys. You win. I’ll talk to Sadie first, before delivering the mail.”